God's Kind of Economy

"In those days when you pray I will listen. If you look for me in earnest, you will find me when you seek me. I will be found by you," says the Lord. "I will end your captivity and restore your fortunes." Jeremiah 29:12-14

Everyday last week there seemed to be a depressing report of the work force in America. Over and over I heard the stats of how hard hit women have been. The plight of the number of people receiving food stamps, of those who are underemployed, seeking jobs or unemployed but no longer seeking jobs, and the many more that will soon be among their number were well covered. The inference was, this country is on the skids and there is very little hope and President Obama says the only answer is to trust in the government to take care of us. However, on Sunday I was ready to pray and put this enormous problem in God's hands. In reply He seemed to say, "Maybe if those who are stuggling in this financial recession knew a small part of your mother's story it would lift their spirits. Because the truth is that even when men and women have lost the plan for their futures, God hasn't."

On the day my mother, Marian, met Jesus in a little West Texas church and made a decision to live her life His way everything changed for her. In Jesus' presence she agreed to finally become responsible for her life and only trust Him to help her. The days of leaning on other people or things were over. All had failed her but Jesus promised  that she would not be alone. When His vision disappeared she realized He had filled her with the peace and courage she had needed for so many years. She made a decision right then to resist the overwhelming terrors and fears that sought to control her as well as her violently abusive husband before she left the church.*

She returned home with new resolve to find her husband sitting in the living room. She grabbed a pillowcase and began to scoop all of the can goods into it. When she had gathered everything she needed from the apartment she went to where he sat and stood before him, she extended her hand to him palm up, and said, "The girls and I are leaving. We're going back to Dallas. I need the keys to the car." "Can I go , too?" he asked meekly now that he was sober. "Yes," she replied, "but only so far as your mother's house. I'll never live with you again."

Marian had been married since she was sixteen. And though she had owned a children's day care for a time, she had never trained for a job. She couldn't imagine how she was going to support and provide for her girls. But things began to fall into place. She found an apartment in a government housing complex as soon as she arrived in town. Then, looking through the Want Ads she saw the Bus Station needed help in the coffee shop. She was willing to learn the job and she was hired. My older stepsister, Susie, looked after her sister who was five years younger. There were only a few assets that Marian took to that job. She showed up on time with a smile, listened, and learned. "I didn't make hardly any money," she said later, "but I got a few tips and I could eat during my shift so the food money went to the girls."

Before long an actual restaurant downtown had an opening for a waitress. "I applied for it as soon as I heard about it," she smiled. "It only paid a little better but most importantly, I was allowed to take leftover food home so that was like a big raise to me and I learned more skills. Things were improving. I never figured to stay a long time anywhere. I was always looking for the next step up so I did the best I could everwhere just so I could get a good recommendation. But I always thought it was ironic that I would never have heard about the second restaurant if I hadn't taken the awful job working nights at the Bus Station.

"From there I got a job at a variety store. The trouble with it was it was so far away. I had to ride the bus to the end of the line then I still had to walk a couple of miles to the store," she related. However, she got a good raise and the sacrifice was worth it since she had some money for her children's needs. "I was working there at Easter and because of my boss the girls had the best Easter of their lives." When the holiday was over she asked if she could take some of the left over candy to her kids. Her boss replied, "You can have anything you want." She laughed as she related the story to me many years later, "You should have seen me getting on the bus with huge stuffed animals and big baskets full of candy, eggs, and grass. I still don't know how I carried it all until I reached the bus!"

The next job was only a few blocks from home at a high-end restaurant. There as one of the wait staff she was trained in table service and actually began to make enough money to cover the family's needs. That was when she realized her confidence in herself had changed. To her surprise, she actually believed that she could learn, she could grow, and she could succeed. After a little time she began to wonder if she could achieve the dream she had always carried.

One thing led to another and she was accepted into the local nursing program. The restaurant was only open in the evenings so she continued to work most of her way through school where she graduated at the top of her class.

For years Marian had believed she was a looser who couldn't succeed. She had been so beat up and beat down by life and her husband that her hope had run out. Once she started on her new path the problems didn't just magically disappear. Her husband continued to get drunk, intimidate, and terrorize her along with other trials, but she confronted each one with a new resolve and the knowledge that she was no longer alone. Once she put her faith in Jesus, knowing that she needed His directions and plan, in two short years she rose from a pit of despair and helplessness to achieve more than she had ever thought she could.

*See: Available Grace: True Short Stories of the Rewards of Intentional Living, "My Comforter In Trouble", pg.123. To order click on: http://sbpra.com/mariannecassell or www.amazon.com
     I'm telling my mother's story with her permission.

When I'm Happy

I sat down in the sactuary as usual about thirty minutes before church started. I like to be early since it gives me time to turn my thoughts to God and quietly prepare for the service. All of a sudden I heard my daughter, Carrie's voice from somewhere behind me. I couldn't tell what she was saying and didn't turn around to see who she was talking to. Suddenly, however, I heard her laugh then her voice dropped as she continued to speak before she laughed again. "She's happy today," I thought as I smiled. As she laughed again I wanted to enter in and laugh with her.

Then the Lord spoke to me, "I joy over you when you're happy," The thought passed through my mind with a reference Zeph. 3:17.

Then, He continued, "Don't waste your days in complaints and worries. I came to help every trouble you'll ever face." Another reference, Psalm 46:1, sprang into my mind to confirm the truth He had just spoken.

Then He continued again, "Remember how your attention was instantly focused on Carrie when you heard her voice just now and how you wanted to join in her happiness? And yet, there are many times you cannot meet the needs she has? How much more do I joy over you when you are happy and carefree in your faith knowing that I can always make a difference in your life!"

The Smallest Comment

Last Saturday morning was one of those perfectly glorious mornings that always make me glad to be alive. The sun was out, the temperature mild and the wind was quiet. I found my spirits rising of their own accord. What a joy to be alive! Suddenly the hope that something wonderful but unexpected could happen bubbled up in my mind and heart. I took the opportunity to get to the grocery store before 8:00 a.m. so I would be ready for a surprise.

On my way home, I was still basking in the glow of the morning. It was one of those times I couldn't keep from smiling even though there was no one else around. I was on my third and last trip to unload the car when two ladies who live in my community came abreast of my car. I didn't know them but it was obvious they were getting their exercise walking through the development.

"Hello!" I called as I straightened up with bags from the back seat. One of the ladies responded cheerily, "Hello!" Encouraged, I continued, "Isn't this the most glorious day?"

To that the other lady said, "Were you the one driving by us a while ago?"

"I might have been," I smiled before closing the door.

"Well, you were going too fast!" she shook her finger at me. "The speed limit's fifteen miles an hour, you know!"

I felt the smile slide off of my face as I mumbled, "Really." Quickly closing the door, I turned and headed for my apartment. A question that I pondered all the rest of the day was already flooding into my mind. How many hours of joy and pleasure have I stolen from others' during my lifetime, just because my focus was on correcting their mistakes?

I'm not trying to defend my driving though generally I do obey rules. I certainly could have been going too fast. Actually, I was enjoying the morning so much my speed never once entered my mind. But just then, my behavior was not the point. The joy and pure pleasure of that morning was instantly dimmed for me by the woman's criticism and accusation and I suspected there have been far too many times that I have caused the same thing to happen to someone else. Are these some of the words I'm going to answer for at Jesus' judgment, I wondered?

I was still mulling over this new insight when my sister, Susie, called on Sunday morning. After she heard me out and we thoroughly discussed the event from every possible angle she said, "This reminds me of something that happened to me several years ago."

Susie had gone to the CVS Pharmacy not too long after her daughter had died. She was waiting in the checkout line when the stranger behind her looked at her and smile as she said, "God bless you."

"I've never known what she saw in me," Susie said. "I know I was sad and confused at that time. But whatever prompted her to say it, I've never forgotten how it made me feel. Immediately, I felt hope take hold in my heart. I knew she had told me exactly what I needed to hear. Even though it's been years I've never forgotten it. That stranger gave me the strength to keep on going."

By the time I got to church, I had made up my mind. I want to be the stranger who's remembered years later because my smallest comment makes others feel better for having seen me or encourages others to keep moving forward when the going is tough.